


Quilted Comfort

by Batsymomma11



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Batfamily Feels, Cold, Comfort Food, Dick is a Good Brother, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Jason Is Crabby As Hell, Mild Language, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 19:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16540385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsymomma11/pseuds/Batsymomma11
Summary: Jason has a cold. He wants to be left alone. Maybe. Mostly.





	Quilted Comfort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Batastic_Grayson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batastic_Grayson/gifts).



> I have a cold right now! Yay! It's that season and I feel like crap. This little one-shot is a gift to my sissy, Batastic_Grayson, because she has been the best in helping me out the last couple days while I've been miserable. She's the Grayson to my Todd. 
> 
> I do not own DC or its characters. I do own this story. Thanks as always for reading!

            So, maybe he had a cough.

            And a little bit of a stuffy nose.

            Possibly a throbbing head and just a tad bit of pressure behind his eyes that felt a little like knives being plunged into the sockets.

            Fuck.

            He was sick.

            Who was he trying to fool? Jason sounded like he’d had a fight with some sort of slimy cold monster and lost. Badly. Staring into the bathroom mirror, he could see the puffy circles around his eyes and the red chapped skin on his nose from using copious amounts of tissue. If he spoke, it was a little like garbling broken glass.

            Jason looked like shit. He felt a little less than shit. But it was getting there. Rapidly.

            And maybe he was a whiny bitch about it and didn’t feel like being nice. Maybe he wanted to fucking hibernate and let everyone and everything just disappear. Because that was what sick people did. They hid under the covers, drank a lot of fluids, took a crap ton of Nyquil and rode the storm of mucus sludge till they got to the other side.

            Preferably alone. Without witnesses.  

            Apparently, Dick hadn’t got the memo. Because the moment he’d heard Jason’s voice over the phone, he’d gone into full mama bear mode and had come to storm the castle.

            Jason could be a jerk. OK, maybe he could be a world class jerk when he wanted to be. But he couldn’t have turned down Dick even if he’d tried. Not when he’d shown up with tissue and meds and Alfred’s macaroni and cheese. Which was a cruel thing, because Dick knew exactly how much Jason loved that goddamn mac and cheese. Manipulative or not, Jason had sniffed at the food, grumbled under his breath and let his brother in.

            Still, he didn’t think Dick being nice to him meant he had to return the favor. He’d wanted to be left alone. Dick had refused to give him that. Which meant Dick got to suffer through whatever the hell Jason decided to give him.

            “Jay?”

            Jason’s shoulders scrunched angrily as he turned from the mirror and glared at the bathroom door. “What?”

            “You alright in there?”

            “Why?”

            “It’s been a long time.”

            “Can’t a guy take a shit without being bothered?”

            Dick sounded like he was a muffling a laugh. Which only made Jason frown. It wasn’t meant to be funny. He was trying to be an asshole and it wasn’t working. Whatever Jason did, it only managed to bounce off Dick’s sunshine and turn into something else. When Dick decided he was going to infect someone with his optimism and sweetness, it was a death sentence. The man was a walking epidemic.

            “I brought your favorite blanket. And the macaroni and cheese is waiting for you.”

            Jason growled low and threatening but it sounded weak considering it came out hoarse. His voice crackled pitifully. He was a mess. A fucking mess. And they both knew it.

            Giving up, Jason flung the bathroom door open and marched dutifully past Dick towards the living room. Sure enough, it looked exactly as he’d expected. Like a mother had come in and made a little nest for their kiddo. Dick _did_ bring his favorite blanket from the manor. A snowflake quilt that was as old as it looked and worn on all the edges. But it was heavy and just the right thickness—so it was one of those blankets that just screamed comfort.

            And that shouldn’t have made his stomach go hollow and his chest tighten. But it did. Just a little bit.

            Dick had set up a TV tray with the food, a Gatorade, cold pills, tissues, and the remotes. Thoughtful. And annoying because it made Jason want to hug him.  

            Jason stomped half-heartedly over to the spot Dick had carved out for him and plopped unceremoniously into it. Dick joined him without saying anything and for once, Jason was too grateful for the food and all the creature comforts that Dick was so good at thinking of, to complain. He ate the food. He took the pills. He curled beneath the quilt and felt his eyes sluggishly dip into slits as the TV hummed softly in the background.

            They stayed for a long while. Hours maybe. Jason wasn’t keeping track of it but he was pretty sure it was quite a while. Because when Dick spoke it sounded sleepy too. It was late.

            “You should go to bed Jay.”

            Jason made a grumbling noise but had no intention of moving. He was warm. His body didn’t hurt so much with meds on board and he figured sleeping on the couch would be worth it. Even if he woke in a couple hours and felt like his back had been pummeled by the springs.

            “Jay—come on. Let me help you up. You’ll sleep better in bed.”

            Jason slanted an angry look at his brother and growled, “I’m comfortable.”

            Dick smiled, “I know. And I’m glad you are. But you should move.”

            “Dick—”

            Dick was already standing, reaching down to try and move Jason like he was some fucking kid that needed to be toted off to bed. Jason came incredibly close to biting at the hands that tried to move him like a rabid dog. Maybe he was feeling a little more charitable towards Dick because of the food and stuff, but he wasn’t in the mood to be manhandled.

            He was mulish on the best of days. Today was not a good day.

            “Stop that.”

            “I’m. Not. Moving.”

            Dick’s brows scrunched, and his expression went dark like it did before he decided something was happening no matter what anyone else said. And it was on.

            Jason and Dick struggled for a brief moment as Dick attempted to hoist him up by the armpits and the quilt fell away. Cold air jetted down Jason’s t-shirt and he snarled. Maybe he shouldn’t have decided it was an all-out declaration of war—but his brain _was_ a little hazy and stuffed up with gunk. And he _did_ take cold pills. So, he wasn’t in his right mind. At least, that’s what he would argue later if Dick tried to be reasonable and get him to apologize.

            Jason cocked back a fist and decked his big bro smack in the nose.

            “Fuck, Jay!” Dick staggered back, quickly clamping a hand over his nose as it decided bleeding was in order and then he disappeared down the hall to the bathroom.

            Jason sat very still on the couch. Rumpled, still angry, and now sporting an uncomfortable amount of regret in his stomach. Maybe he’d not exactly meant to hurt him. Maybe he should have tried to think that through better. Or to pull the punch. But Dick had been asking for it. Dick had been pushy and making him move when he didn’t want to. And Jason hadn’t asked Dick to come over and play mother and be in his space and try to take care of him—

            Jason swallowed thickly, eyes glued to his lap where the snowflake quilt was still partially covering him and then pushed to a wobbly stand. Leaving everything in the living room, Jason forced himself towards the bathroom where he knew Dick would still be and then scowled as he saw Dick sitting on the edge of the tub with toilet paper pressed to his nose.

            “I uh—I’m sorry.” God, Jason hated apologizing. It always felt like nails on a chalkboard. Like his mouth was never meant to say stuff like that.

            Dick shrugged, “S’ alright.”

            Jason folded his arms. Not because he was cold and almost shivering. Not at all. Though his eyelids felt like they were sliding over molten lava, and everything felt just this side of tippy. “I appreciate you coming out here and trying to uh—help.”

            Dick’s smile was smothered by the toilet paper, but it was there. So maybe he hadn’t done some irreparable damage. And it brought something like relief to Jason’s middle, so it was good. It was OK.

            “Don’t worry about it, Jay. I’m good. But since you’re up already,” Dick’s smile widened, “Why don’t you go get in bed and I’ll bring you your supplies for the night, before I go?”

            “Go?” Jason regretted the single word the moment if fell out of his mouth. Because Dick’s eyes widened, and one brow lifted in question and it looked very much like Jason _didn’t_ want Dick to leave. Which was absurd. Because he wanted to be alone. And he didn’t want anyone here. And—

            “Did you want me to stay here Jay?”

            Jason started to shake his head, started to say no, because that was what his brain said he should say, but that didn’t happen. “Yeah. Maybe.”

            “OK. I’ll stay.”

            “You don’t have to. I don’t know what—”

            “I’ll stay.”

            Jason’s arms wrapped tighter around his middle and he turned sharply for the bedroom. He’d already embarrassed himself enough already without adding insult to injury. So what, if he wanted his brother to stay over because he was sick and needy and not nearly as independent as he wanted to be? So what that he liked the quilt and the food and the mothering?

            Fuck. It made him feel—warm and gooey and pissy.

            Grumbling all the way to his bed, Jason threw back the comforters and dove in before he could overthink it. The sheets felt like ice on his skin and he shivered in earnest beneath them.

            A few minutes later when Dick came bustling into the room with the TV tray loaded to the gills with all the ‘sick supplies’, Jason felt his body relax. It was the cold pills’ fault. The pills made his head muzzy and soft. It made him weak.

            Yeah. Right.

            Why was it so fucking hard to ask for help or even need it? Why was it hard to like having someone that cared about him? To like having family that wanted to be there for him? Why did he have to be such a prick about it?

            Jason didn’t know. But he wasn’t about to analyze it anymore when he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. His body had made a pocket of warmth beneath the blankets, finally, and he was warming up. Dick didn’t ask to share the bed, but Jason figured it should have been expected because it was well—Dick. The man had no personal boundaries. Nor would he ever.

            Jason might like that some days. Most days. Today especially.

            Because he didn’t have to say anything else when Dick rolled into him and pressed against Jason’s side to offer a little more warmth. And Jason didn’t necessarily have to bitch anymore when he was this close to sleep and Dick’s arms were somehow magically wrapped around him.

            It was nice. Sue him.

Jason liked being cuddled when he wasn’t feeling good. Any other day, he’d deck Dick right in that pretty nose of his again. Maybe break it for good measure. Now, he just nuzzled in and let himself _soak_ in that heat and comfort.

            “Night Jay.”

            Jason made a humming noise in the back of his throat but figured Dick got the message just fine because he could feel Dick smiling into his hair.


End file.
